Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1887-08-08
AI,TIIl, L.

Several wears ago lived in narrow
street near the Champs Elysees. known as
the Passage des Douzr Maisons. Picture
to Yourself this silent and deserted corner
of the faubourg, oyershadowed by the
grandeur Of more aristoCratic neighbor
hood. and its stiffness only interrupted 10y
the occasional noise Of n rolling carriage.
Year after wear. whether from ayarice
Dr Indifference, the owner Of the property
left il unimpruyed. in strange contrast to
its beautiful surroundings. The low
houses with no brighter outlook than
their tiny and neglected gardens, were
most awkwardly built. the steps running
up on the outside, with here and there
wooden Platforms used fer the two fold
purpose of drying clothes and for afford
ing refuge 10 half starved cats. pet ravens
and tame rabbits These tenements were
the homes of mechanics, Of people forced
to practice the direst economy, Of artists
the latter attracted by the trees, and
near by were some lodging houses OF SO
mean an aspect that the fact of their hav
ing sheltered misers from time immemo-
rial seemed loudly proclaimed
Yet in this immediate vicinity Law the
Champs Fly,ees in all its noisy hrilliancy.
There one heard steady roll of wheels, u
constant clanking of harness chains, quick
footsteps upon the payements, or the
heavy shutting of gates after some en-
blazoned carriage had ratified through
them. ~ times the mutfled sound of y
piano, or of the Niolins in the Mabille, fell
upon the ear, and, forming background
To all We're rows Of imposing dwellings,
gracefully standing out against the sky:
their windows. half shaded 10y soft, silken
draperies reflected from their glittering
panes the gilt of the candelabra and the
varied hues of rare and many colored
flowers within.
This gloomy Passage des DouZe Maisons,
lighted 10y a single street lamp, seemed
like a side scene Of the more brilliant
neighbnrhood All that for the moment
was superfluous TO the splendor there,
courted idleness here: liveried servants,
clowns in costume, colony of English
grooms, hostlers from the circus the two
little hippodrome riders on their famous
ponies. and one might even see tiny goat
wagons and pretty toy theatres, suggest
i've OF Chlldrens amusement. In the
midst Of this, however. a dreary process
sion of blind men, who cleveriy converted
their misfortune into capital, and evening
after evening they would wander back TO
the alley, carrying their camp stools, &C
cordions and wooden bowls.
During my residence in the street one
of these poor creatures married, and his
wedding was the occasion of a nights
merrymaking. fantastic concert. TO
which clarinets, hautboys, organs and &C
cordons all contributed. giving forth
those sounds so familiar TO each and every
bridge of Paris. Quiet usually reigned
supreme in this quarter. for these street
vagrants seldom returned before dusk,
and then indeed with very weary limbs
1t was only on Saturday night, after
Arthur had received his wages, that there
WAS any disturbance.
Arthur was my neighbor. / thin wall
heightened by a trellis, was all that sep
arated my humble lodging from the room
which he and his wife occupied. Thus
in spite of myself there was the necessary
intimacy of proximity, and every Satur-
day I was forced to become the silent wit
ness of horrible drama. So often enacted
in the hoines Of our Partisan workingren
The opening scene was invariably the
same. The woman would he preparing
the dinner while the children played
by her side. No matter how busy she
might he, she always spoke gently to
them. Seven O'Clock. o'clock-nobody,
AS the hours passed her voice would
change, and stiflcd sobs seemed TO echo
her anxiety. Then the little ones, growing
hungry and fearful. would begin to fret
Their father did not come: they must eat
without him. By and by these tired chill
drcn would drop of TO sleep, one after the
other, and as the mother stepped out on
the narrow wooden balcony | could hear
her crying bitterly and murmurng. 'Oh.
the wretch the wretch
The neighburs coming home saw and
pitied her You had better go to bed,
Nine Arthur You know well enough
that he has no idea Of returning TO you on
his pay day"
Then would follow advice mingled with
idle gossip. Il would not act thus were
in your place Why not complain to his
master,''
But this sort of commiscration only
served To make her weep the more, and
still hoping, she would patiently wait.
The doors opening into the silent alley
being closed, fancying herself alone. and
with that peculiar indifference of the
lower classes, who live half of their lives
il: the street, she would lean Oh her elbows
and loudly relate her tale of suffering,
thought having concentrated upon the
liked idea of her misery. Sometimes il
was the overdue rent, sometimes the dun
ming tradespeople, or perhaps the baker,
who refused TO supply her longer with
bread one or all of these causes contrib
uting TO her worry. What would happen
Were he again to come home without
money,
At last, growing weary of listening for
his tardy footsteps, of counting the slug
gisl: hours, she would 20 in, but long
when imagined her at rest,
l could hear some one coughing on the
other side of the partition. Poor, unfor-
tunate woman! She was still there, tor
tured by anxiety, straining her eyes to
penetrate the gloom, and seeing nothing
save her own distress.
Que O'Clock, 2 O'Clock. often later, a
voice might be heard singing at the end Of
the street. Arthur was returning Csu-
ally some comrade walked with him as far
as the door: Come on. come on" and
even there he would loiter, for, knowing
full we'll what awaited him beyond its
he felt too cowardly 10 knock.
As he mounted the stairs the stiffness Of
the house lent all emphasis to his heavy |
akin Ia rUmorsc. He would talk aloud |
L. himself, pausing on each wretched |
landing.
Good evening. Nine. Weber; good eve |
ming, Nine Matthew" and if the saluta-
tions failed To elicit any response, storm |
Of curses followed until every door and |
opened, and his own profanity
would be returned with interest.
This was precisely what he wanted.
When he had been drinking nothing
pleased him better than brawls. for. thus
fortified by anger he could wear bolder
face as he knocked at his own door.
This homecoming WAS terrible.
Open let me in
Then ! could hear the woman's bare feet
crossing the floor, the striking of matches,
and the man. even as he stumbled in. try
ing TO stammer an eNcuse-always the
same, however: bad company, foolish i'm
pulses All the story is an old One-Old
as the hills, and the woman never paid
attention TO it.
The money!
IL have no more" Arthur's voice re-
Dlipl